Lyrics Robin - C-Money , Kenmore

Every time the seasons getting cold
I'm in my cave oh and the blinds are closed
Staying home
I know it's my fault
But I'm not one to talk about
Duress
I know it seems I'm going crazy maybe
It's just the weighted hand
I got some air to spare
I never need it there
Just fake a plan

Keep my circle tight
We the 90's jam
Pants were oversized
I don't close my mind
Mountain climb this isolation
Can't find love
So the drinks I'm chasing
Between these sides
We bleed with lies
Please keep the small chats
And bring the sighs
Society I don't need that
Already high up in the sky
Watch my wings flap
You dingbats don't see the purpose
I swallowed up the demons
Now I breath the surface
Forget the tradeoffs
And greet the merchant
What lies in passion is nothing certain
The world a big stage
So find the curtains
Love is so sweet
Now my heart deserted
On the scene
But off of perc-ey
If I die tonight
Then it all seem worth it

Every time the seasons getting cold
(Getting cold)
I'm in my cave oh and the blinds are closed
Staying home
I know it's my fault
But I'm not one to talk about
Duress
(Duress)
I know it seems I'm going crazy maybe
It's just the weighted hand
(It's just the weighted hand)
I got some air to spare
I never need it there
Just fake a plan

Call collect
Break my neck
Won't take the hate
But I make respect
Bring it back
To the old days
Make it always
Riding high tides
On the low waves
Running gold shoes
On a leg day
Spitting bonjour
On french plain
Run it back
Impossible math
They say it's tough
You don't know the half
Leave the girl last
Cause the love not right
Heart full of glass
Got my eyes shut tight
Shit on my hand
Got a blinding light
Take it right off
I feel alright
Gonna die off
And see all sides
Keep your dark void
Ima see all light
When the sun come up
Ima see all the fright
It's gonna go away
And it's all hiding

Every time the seasons getting cold
(Getting cold)
I'm in my cave oh and the blinds are closed
Staying home
I know it's my fault
But I'm not one to talk about
Duress
(Duress)
I know it seems I'm going crazy maybe
It's just the weighted hand
(It's just the weighted hand)
I got some air to spare
I never need it there
Just fake a plan

Seasons go
With it
I pick another genre
Going home
Gonna
Spend the night alone yeah
And I know it's no one else's
But it seems a little selfish
When I
Am writing like a tome yeah
Going crazy for lunch
A hungry boy with a hunch
A king
In a drywall palace
Not a reason to stare
Not an eye unaware
Now the boy is so damn callous
Sitting writing his songs
Putting paper to prong
Till the sun joins him in his ballads
And his eyelids close
His words are on the nose
But the feeling comes and goes

That was it